


Papa to the Rescue

by I May Age Regress (shnuffeluv)



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Comfort No Hurt, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-10-01 21:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/I%20May%20Age%20Regress
Summary: Remy didn't entirely know when this whole thing started, but he knew when it came to a head. Tohishead. His head was feeling fuzzy, and he hated his head feeling fuzzy. What was worse, he was alone. What was a guy to do?





	Papa to the Rescue

Remy wasn't entirely sure when this had started. Ever since he could remember, he had wanted to be loved in a way he felt he never was. Loved in the way a parent loves their child. He knew his parents were nice. They made sure he had food and a roof over his head. But emotionally? Sometimes it felt like they weren't there. _Sometimes._ He snorted. Try most of the time, unless he initiated the contact.

As he grew up, he learned to push that need aside. It was something childish, and he didn't have time for childish things. He needed to be mature, he needed to be able to stand up for himself. And that's how he found himself a world of trouble in the form of Emile Picani.

Emile was an excellent boyfriend. Caring, kind, the sort of guy anybody would be lucky to have. It also seemed like he could tear away all the carefully placed covers Remy put on to make it seem like he was a mature adult. Usually it wasn't anything bad. Emile might pass him a sports bottle full of water, reminding him to drink something while he worked (that wasn't coffee). Or he might snuggle Remy longer than strictly necessary, murmuring sweet nothings into Remy's hair. Remy loved it, and that terrified him. When Emile did stuff like that, Remy finally felt cared for in the way he craved. And when that happened, Remy's mind went fuzzy around the edges, in a way that scared him the second it was gone. It was hard for him to remember specifics of what happened during that time, and he needed to know that he wasn't doing or saying anything embarrassing. To not know that...well...he didn't like it.

When one fateful day that Emile was gone, Remy was working at home until all the words he was trying to read were blurring together in a big, jumbled mess of a wall of text. He tried to focus, to the point that he was reading out loud and squinting at the screen, but the words just wouldn't sink in. The only thing sinking was his stomach, because he realized that his head was going fuzzy out of nowhere. And he had no one around to make sure that he didn't do anything stupid. He pulled out his phone with shaking hands and checked the time. Four-thirty. Emile would be wrapping things up with his final client of the day. He tried to put together the words he needed to tell Emile to hurry home, but the letters on the screen seemed like nonsense to him. The words he _knew_ how to spell wouldn't help, and he _knew_ this wasn't normal, he _knew_ he should be able to type out a simple text, but he couldn't. Instead, he pulled up the emojis. He selected the warning sign, a man running, and a house. He sent it and prayed that would get his message across.

He started to cry in relief when Emile texted back. _On my way, baby. Hold tight._

Holding tight was about all he could do. He pulled his feet up onto the chair he was sitting on, wrapping one arm around his legs and chewing on the other hand's thumbnail. He knew it was a bad habit, but it was this or _sucking_ his thumb, which he knew was very much Not Allowed.

The front door opened, closed. There were rushed footsteps heading to the office, and all Remy could do was cry when he saw Emile standing in the doorway. "Remy? What's wrong?" Emile asked, walking over slowly.

Remy wrapped his arms tight around his boyfriend and sobbed into his shoulder. "Head," Remy mumbled. "Head's fuzzy."

"Oh," Emile said simply. "How long has it been fuzzy?"

Remy pulled away and shrugged. He pointed at the computer. "Words are wrong. Too much."

Emile tutted. "Did that scare you?" he asked.

Remy rubbed at his eyes and nodded. He knew it shouldn't have been scary, but it was. One minute he could read, and the next he could barely focus.

"Hey, Rem? I've been meaning to have a talk with you about your head going fuzzy before today. I shouldn't have waited, that was my bad, but I might be able to talk to you now, if you're up for it?" Emile asked, voice going soft as he put a hand on Remy's shoulder.

Remy shrugged. He really didn't know if he was up for it or not, he was tired and scared and stressed and his head was still impossibly fuzzy.

"Okay, well, we need to have this talk before I do anything else," Emile said with a wince. "So I'll try to make it simple, okay? Do you want to move to the living room?"

Remy nodded. Emile offered him his hand, and Remy hesitantly took it, and didn't let go. He trailed behind Emile, still biting his nails, a little teary-eyed. Emile sat down on the couch, and Remy followed suit. "Remy, I don't want to shock you too much, but you deserve an explanation for what's going on. You regress."

Remy tilted his head to the silent in a silent query for more information.

"Basically, your brain can't handle being an adult all the time, so sometimes it makes you act like a kid. This means that you might bite your nails, or not be able to read as well, or type. Make sense so far?"

Remy hummed his agreement.

"Now, everyone who I know who has done this does it a little differently. Sometimes, they can do it on purpose. With you, I think it happens on accident. Which is okay, there's nothing wrong with that. But during this time, it helps to have someone look after you, if possible. And if you want, I could help take care of you until you feel like an adult again," Emile offered.

"When's that?" Remy asked.

Emile winced. "I honestly don't know, Rem. You pushed this down so far that it was hard to find, and that sort of repression can hurt you, or make you regress for longer. Now it's all bubbling up to the surface, and I don't know how long it'll take for you to 'age up' again. Might be several hours, might be twenty minutes. But however long it takes, I'm willing to help you. If you want."

Remy squirmed where he sat. He had a burning question he needed answered, but words were almost impossibly hard. "...Kinda like...like a parent?"

"If you want," Emile said, placing a hand over Remy's free one.

"So...like..." Remy blinked, and blushed. "Like...you could be my papa?"

"If you want me to be, I would be honored," Emile said, placing a hand over his heart. "Do you want that?"

Remy hummed his agreement. "Never had a papa before," he mumbled. "Always wanted one, though."

Emile gave Remy's hand a squeeze, and Remy looked up at Emile. "Do you want to go to the bedroom? I have a few things in the closet which might make you feel better."

Remy made an interested noise and followed Emile to the bedroom. Emile sat him on the bed and opened up the closet. "First things first," Emile said, pulling out a sparkly gold pacifier. "We need to make sure you don't ruin your teeth or your nails."

When Emile came over with the pacifier, Remy pulled his hand away from his mouth and let Emile put the pacifier in. He gave it a little experimental suck. It felt weird, but it didn't feel _wrong._ It was also pretty soothing.

"All right, Rem, before I do anything else I have to ask you a kinda-sorta-maybe embarrassing question," Emile said.

"Wha'sit?" Remy asked, words slurring around the pacifier.

"Do you remember how to use the bathroom?" Emile asked, turning slightly pink.

Remy turned cherry red as he realized the implications of that question. He turned redder when he realized that the answer was no. He shook his head subtly.

"It's okay, I got stuff for that just in case," Emile said softly. "Are you okay if I change you?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Remy nodded. If they didn't know how long this went on, and he didn't know how to use the po--the bathroom, it made sense to wear some form of protection.

Emile went back to the closet, pulling out a diaper and laying Remy back on the bed. Remy buried his face in his hands as Emile got to work, pulling down his pants, and his boxers, and moved the diaper underneath him. When Emile had gently placed all four tapes in place, Remy peeked out from behind his hands. Emile smiled. "It's been a little while since I've had to do that, but I've still got it!" he said triumphantly. "Hi, baby."

Remy waved back. Emile laughed. "Do you want your pants back on?" he asked. "If you do, you should know that I'll be doing regular diaper checks."

On one hand, Remy didn't want to be running around the house in only a T-shirt and a diaper, but on the other...he _really_ didn't want Emile to be checking his diaper regularly. "No pants," he decided.

"Okay," Emile said. "Now we can talk about fun things. Like what you want to do while you're regressed."

Remy sucked on the pacifier and just tilted his head to the side again.

"Well, I have a coloring book or two here," Emile said, pointing to the closet. "Or we could find something around the house to play with. And then, of course, we could always watch cartoons..."

Remy's eyes lit up and Emile grinned. "You know, I didn't have you pegged for that but I'm really happy you want to watch a cartoon or two with me! We can figure out which one you might want to see as soon as we figure out where...Oh! Wait! I almost forgot!" He went back to the closet and pulled out a white stuffed dog with brown ears and spots all over. Remy squealed in delight and made grabby-hands for it. Emile passed it over with a laugh. "I thought you might like that. You know what you might name him?"

That was a very good, very important question. He thought long and hard, frowning in concentration. "Coffee!" he declared, pulling out his pacifier. "'Cause the spots are brown like coffee."

Emile laughed again. "I shouldn't be surprised," he lightly teased. "Want to watch cartoons in here or on the TV?"

"Here," Remy said. He really didn't feel like getting up again.

Emile nodded and held up a finger. He left the room and quickly returned with his laptop, booting it up and pulling up all the cartoons he had saved on it. "Anything you wanna watch?"

"Um um um...I wanna see the one with the um...the gems! Yeah!" Remy nodded. "I wanna see the gems one."

Emile gave him a blank look for a second before he said, "Oh! Do you mean Steven Universe?"

Remy nodded. "Yeah! The gems one!"

Emile laughed. "You're adorable like this. Okay, we'll watch Steven Universe."

When the first notes of the theme song came on, Remy squealed again and did happy kicks. He liked the show a lot, even if he didn't see it often. Watching it with Emile made it special. He snuggled into Emile's side, and Emile happily wrapped his arms around Remy, letting the two of them cuddle. When the first episode ended, Emile just pulled up another, and Remy snuggled further into Emile, hugging Coffee close to his chest. Soon enough, he was drifting to sleep in Emile's arms.

It was a good two hours before Remy woke up again, stretching his legs. He blearily opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of their bedroom. When had he gotten here? He sat up, even more confused than before. Emile's laptop was at the foot of the bed, there was a stuffed dog to Remy's right, and to his left there was a pacifier covered in gold glitter. "What...?" he whispered. "What happened here?"

"Remy? You awake?" Emile asked, lightly knocking on the open door.

"Uh, yeah. What...what happened here?" Remy asked.

"What do you remember?" Emile asked.

"Not much. I was working...and then my head felt fuzzy...and...we watched cartoons? And I fell asleep." Remy shook his head. "What happened?"

"Uh, long story short, you age regress, you texted me near the end of the day, and I took it to mean that you needed help, came over here, gave you a simple explanation of what you were going through, got you settled into bed and we watched cartoons until you passed out," Emile said in one breath. "Um. You might...you might want to go to the bathroom."

"What? Why?" Remy asked, shifting on the bed before feeling a squish between his legs. "...Oh."

"_Yeah,_" Emile said, clearly embarrassed. "It's one thing for me to handle that when someone's regressed. It's entirely different when they're an adult, for some reason."

"Uh...yeah," Remy said, getting off the bed, relieved to see that at least the bed had stayed dry. "Um. Is this going to happen again?"

"That probably depends on whether or not you continue to suppress this need," Emile said candidly. "Although I'm perfectly happy being your caregiver whenever you need it."

"Thanks..." Remy mumbled. "I'm gonna...gonna change now."

"Yeah," Emile said, letting Remy scurry into the ensuite with a pair of boxers and his jeans.

Remy locked the door behind him, leaning his head back. He really didn't need this as a complication in his life. It just looked like it was going to end badly for everyone involved. And yet...while he couldn't remember everything that had happened while he had apparently regressed, he knew that he had felt safe, and more relaxed than he had in a while. It was nice.

He changed, wiping himself clean with a grimace. He wasn't sure he enjoyed that particular...issue, though. No matter how relaxing "regressing" might be. Walking back into the bedroom, he found Emile cleaning up a little. As Emile picked up the stuffed dog, Remy felt a small string of panic enter his system. "Could we...uh...keep the dog out? Like, instead of keeping him cooped up in the closet?"

Emile blinked at him a moment, before nodding. "Of course. You like Coffee?"

Remy dimly remembered naming the dog that, and he nodded, blushing. "I just...think it would be nice to have him around..."

"So, do you think you'd be willing to try this again sometime?" Emile asked.

Remy considered, a little surprised at his answer. "Sure. What's the harm?"

Emile gave him a relieved grin. "Cool. And if you ever need me, like you did today, just text me, all right? I'll come home as soon as I can."

Remy nodded. "What are we having for dinner?"

"Pasta sound good to you?" Emile asked.

"Sounds perfect," Remy said. The two of them left the bedroom, heading to the kitchen. Remy quickly returned, setting Coffee against the pillows, before rushing back out to Emile. Emile gave him a knowing smile and Remy just blushed. "Shut up," he grumbled.

"I didn't say anything," Emile said with a grin.

"I know you thought it," Remy groused.

Emile ruffled Remy's hair and Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile. Emile just laughed and started to cook. Inwardly, Remy sighed with relief. Things were still relatively normal. Emile still loved him.

And Remy felt more loved than he ever had before.

**Author's Note:**

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